


These Small Hours

by The_Last_Kenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Didn't Leave the Jedi Order, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Jedi Families, Minor Character Death, New Jedi Order, Only stupid bad guys though, a little silly, just ridiculously happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Last_Kenobi/pseuds/The_Last_Kenobi
Summary: A one-shot in a universe where everything went just ridiculously, wonderfully, all-too-easily well in the galaxy far, far away.Anakin Skywalker has four very important people to meet, Sith to defeat, a Master to befriend, a Padawan to raise, and a Jedi Order to reform. He gets it all done before age thirty, although not in that order, and definitely not alone.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 181





	These Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

> A dash of fluffiness to break up my usual horror show.

Anakin Skywalker was brought to the crèche when he was two years old. Nobody quite knows how he came to be there—or where he came from—but that is true of many an orphan, or supposed orphan. An ordinary Jedi Knight whose name was forgotten afterwards carried the boy in his arms into the Temple, and deposited him safely into the welcoming arms of Master A’z’reel and her Bear Clan.

Anakin made many friends and a few enemies.

There was Mirae, a Pantoran girl a little older than him. She was blue like the water he had so rarely seen before and she laughed a lot. She liked to sing, and she’s fascinated with his own fascination with mechanics and droids.

There was Tokas, a near-human male just around Anakin’s age. They befriend each other on the first day, immediately fight over a toy tooka, and then promptly make up again. This was the beginning of the pattern of their volatile, boyish friendship.

But Anakin was waiting. On what, he never quite knew, and so he never said.

But he was waiting on…someone. _Someones_.

***

Anakin was six when he met the first one.

He was huge.

Like, _enormous_. Anakin walked forward to greet the Jedi Master who was talking to Master A’z’reel, and then backpedaled, but no matter how far he got it he couldn’t seem to find an angle where he didn’t have to look way, way, up to look this man in the eye. He was _tall_!

The man seemed to notice his trouble; he knelt down, and although his lips barely moved, his eyes crinkled in a warm smile.

“Hello, little sir,” he said, and he had a deep-rumbly-friendly voice that reminded Anakin of his books about the great predator cats of the wild. “And who are you?”  
  


“’M Anakin,” he mumbled.

Master A’z’reel chuckled and knelt, her big furry arms resting lightly on his shoulders. “He’s normally much more vocal. I think you’re the tallest being he’s ever met.”

The Jedi chuckled too. It was a nice chuckle. “Well, Anakin, I am Master Jinn. I’ll see you around, young one.” He rose to his considerable height and bowed to the crèche Master. “I have to run. I’m sure my Padawan is off somewhere getting into not inconsiderable mischief.”  
  


“Doesn’t he have a broken leg?” Master A’z’reel asked, puzzled. “I heard he required multiple bacta treatments and a temporary splint.”

A slight shadow passed over the Master’s face. “It was… not a minor injury. But—” and his eyes crinkled again, “he insists on pushing his Healer-set boundaries. If I leave him for too long, I fear I’ll find him attempting the fire-flower kata.”

The two adults laughed and Master Jinn left, leaving Anakin with only an absent pat on the head, and the memory of his warm rumbly voice.

***

Anakin was eight the next time he met a Someone.

This one was not huge.

She was tiny, actually.

At eight, Anakin was approaching another little growth spurt. He was tall and a little gangly, if still soft-cheeked and a little round in the tummy. Next to this youngling, however, he felt somewhat of a giant.

Normally that might have made him puff out his chest and show off.

Not this time.

She was small and orange with blue-and-white lekku, and she marched straight up to him during mealtime, abandoning her own Clan to do so.

“…Hi?” Anakin asked.

“Hi,” she chirped. “Wanna be friends?” Large blue eyes shifted around uneasily. “I…don’t have no friends yet.”

“’Any,’” the boy corrected her, and then dropped his jaw in horror. “Sorry! I sound like a grown-up. I just meant—aw, never mind. Sure, we can be friends. We won’t see each other too much until we’re both old enough to train in the salles, though, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said quickly. He got the feeling that she was _very_ new and didn’t _actually_ know that, but he liked her spunk.

“I gotta go back to my Master, but I’ll see you, um, guy!”

As she darted off quick as a wink, Anakin yelled after her, “We didn’t even trade names!”

“That’s okay guy, we’ll figure it out later!” she piped back, waving a little orange hand.

They did.

Two weeks later they passed in a hallway. Anakin held out his hand to grasp hers as they passed and felt happy-friendship-tingles run up his arm. “I’m Anakin Skywalker,” he called out.

She squeezed his fingers in her own tiny, chubby ones as she trotted much faster on toddler legs to keep up with her group. “Ahsoka Tano!”

***

The third one came when Anakin was ten.

He had snuck out of the crèche dorms to go to the salles after midnight, to train. It was a simple kata, but he had been struggling so badly with it.

Most of their katas were Shii-Cho, sometimes Niman or Ataru. He was really good at the tricky ones that involved leaps and dashes and twists. This one, the serenity kata, was Soresu. He was not good at it. But he would get better, even if he had to…creatively dodge the rules to do so.

However, no sooner had he slipped into one of the shadowy training salles than he realized his mistake.

This one was not empty.

It was dark, yeah, but there was someone training in here. A Knight, or a Senior Padawan by the looks of it. They were hidden in the dark, only illuminated by their bright blue saber—blue, softened by a little bit of…purple, maybe? A color just a little bit off from the common blue, at least—as it flashed and twisted through the air. From the glimpses Anakin got, he placed his bets on a relatively young human male.

He was intensely focused, but his expression was calm.

If he was a Knight, he was well within his rights to be here at this time.

If he was still a Padawan, well… he was either here on special permission or he was breaking—or, creatively dodging the rules, too.

Anakin’s attention was suddenly hooked.

This guy was practicing _Soresu_.

And he was good. Not insanely good, but _good_. Like it came to him naturally.

Anakin waited until the flurry of katas—slow, smooth, rapid, pointed, always centered around the man’s body, protecting him from any assault—finally eased.

“It’s a little early in the morning for spectating, isn’t it?”

Anakin jumped when the guy addressed him first. He held his saber upright, illuminating pale beige robes and a pale, strongly formed face with a cleft chin. There was a ripple in the Force and the lights came on low.

Anakin blinked rapidly. The older Jedi seemed to have no trouble adjusting; he was already walking towards the initiate with a wry smile. “What are you doing out of bed at this hour, young man?”

He had a nice accent. Clipped and polished. Fancy, but friendly, and his voice sounded warm.

Anakin smiled before he knew what he was doing. “Sorry…” he said sheepishly. “I was…try’na learn some of the steady-rain kata. I’m no good at Soresu. But—you are! You’re really good. Think you can help me?” The other guy opened his mouth to answer but Anakin panicked and kept talking. “I wasn’t spying or anything, or following you around, it’s really just chance that I found you, ‘specially when I need some help with Soresu and you’re amazing at it, but I just—”

“Slow down, young one,” the older one interrupted, looking a little embarrassed. “I—well, I shouldn’t be here, and neither should you. So what I’m going to do is walk you back to your dorm.” He settled a hand on Anakin’s shoulder and began steering him out of the salles.

“ _Aww_ ,” Anakin complained.

“And,” the Padawan continued—and he was definitely an apprentice, he was young and he had a really long braid—“I will teach you some Soresu on fourth-day if you have free period after mid-meal. My Master will be occupied, so I’m free to teach.”

“Are ya gonna tell him about me?” Anakin fretted.

“Um…no. That would involve telling him about this, which would surely get me into trouble. Also… he prefers when I train in Ataru.”

“That’s dumb. You’re a _natural_. I know natural talent when I see it. I’ve got some with mechanics, ya know.”

Anakin glanced up at the face, cast again in shadows as they hurried now through night-lit corridors. He thought he saw a faint flush on those cheeks.

“…Thank you, young one.”

“Anakin,” he insisted. “Anakin Skywalker. I’m not that much younger than you I think.”

“I think you are,” the other returned. “But all right, young Anakin. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

***

The fourth and final Most Important Meeting came when Anakin was eighteen.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was Knighted later than most at age twenty-six. He never really talked about why, but Anakin’s grandmaster—rumbly-voice-super-tall Master Jinn! —confided once that Obi-Wan had been badly injured after a mix-up with the Hutt slave empire when Obi-Wan was twenty-two. He had been missing for over a year, and he was sick when he came back, and his training was…delayed.

Anakin did not like that story.

Obi-Wan was great. He was so, so great, and he had a weird sense of humor, and he had taken Anakin as his Padawan immediately, even though Obi-Wan was only twenty-six and newly Knighted and Anakin was eleven and temperamental.

Anakin had turned down three Masters, waiting for Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he had come through.

Now, at eighteen and thirty-three respectively, they were out on a mission to Alderaan. Some Naboo Senator had gone missing, some old guy named Palpadeen, or something, and they were supposed to find him.

What they found was a false kidnapping, a sketchy money trail, some sort of horror cult that sent shockwaves of Darkness running up Anakin’s spine, and a pretty young woman who was more than ready to help them purge her government of crime.

She was petite, but a little older than Padawan Skywalker, and she seemed to think he was a bit annoying.

That was, until he fixed their crashing speeder mid-flight and then single-handedly held off three guys in freaky black robes with just—tidal waves of dark dark Dark energy rolling off them—it made him want to vomit, but it was also kind of—alluring?—and he fought them alone while Obi-Wan fought desperately to get to him and the woman downloaded evidence from the computer system.

Afterwards, Obi-Wan laid a trembling, protective hand on Anakin’s shoulder, then impulsively hugged him. Anakin collapsed from the sheer weight of gross dark energy and simple exhaustion. When he woke up, the whole karking Council was there on Alderaan, and apparently Anakin had killed a Sith Lord? A Sith. A Sith. Lord.

It was the Palpadeen—Palpatine, he was told—man, the supposedly kidnapped Senator. Obi-Wan had slain the Sith Apprentice and captured the Dark Acolyte, or whatever he was.

Anakin sat upright in his bed, ignoring Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s reprimands, and asked—“What about the mission? How does this effect Naboo and Alderaan? Is Padmé all right?”  
  


She was all right, and she pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead in gratitude for his help.

Then she went and handed a neatly tied up package of evidence and incrimination on the doorstep of her government and their media outlets, stepped up on the proverbial platform, and spoke loud and clear about patriotism and generosity and kindness and the spirit of the Naboo, and condemned any people who may have been helping the criminals, and promised justice. This woman had risked her life, crawled through ventilation shafts, shot a blaster at a Sith, and broken into a traitor’s den to protect her planet.

She was spectacular, and Anakin Skywalker was irrevocably in love.

***

Jedi did not have families, per say.

But Anakin did.

The Council just had to deal with it.

[Message:SEND:Skywalker, Anakin] Hello, Padmé. Just checking in. I hear you’ve been reelected as Senator; congratulations!

[Message:Received]

[Message:SEND:Amidala, Padmé] Hello, Anakin. Thank you very much. I’m happy to serve again—Naboo is in need of strength and honesty still, and I’m glad they see those things in me.

[Message:Delayed:Out of Range]

[Message:Received]

[Message:SEND:Skywalker, Anakin] You are definitely those things, and more. You once said Naboo is ‘purity of heart, clarity of intention, humility of action, and powerful of spirit.’ You are all those things, and lovely as well—as lovely as Naboo, or more.

[Message:Received]

[Message:SEND:Amidala, Padmé] Knight Skywalker! Where have you been, or can you not say? You were out of range for weeks. Master Jinn says you have a reputation for landing yourself in the Healer’s Halls. That had better not be the case this time.

[Message:Received]

[Message:SEND:Skywalker, Anakin] I can neither confirm or deny.

[Message:Received]

[Message:SEND:Amidala, Padmé] Anakin Skywalker, you are going to make your Master and I go grey before our time. Are you allowed visitors? Never mind, I’ll find out for myself at the door. Healer Bant will let me in regardless.

“Watch out, Snips!”

“I _am_ watching out! _You_ watch out, Skyguy!”

A hail of blaster fire whirled around Anakin’s cockpit as he spun tightly through open space, trying to keep track of his Padawan in another starfighter. “Ya know, this nickname thing is starting to get disrespectful. I liked ‘ _Pad’wan An’kin_ ’ better!”

Ahsoka divebombed him from above and then peeled off at the last second. “I! Was! Three!”

“And adorable.”

“I have never been adorable in my life! And definitely not now, I’m fifteen!”

“And _adorable_. Watch out, _little one_ , Geonosian fighters incoming!”

“I can _see_ that, Skyguy!”

“Well I’ve got a bad feeling—”

“Me too. It’s fine, Skyguy.”

They were almost to the ground when Ahsoka’s starfighter blew up.

“ _AHSOKA_!”

No answer.

Just crackling over the comms and a weird feeling down their bond. _/Ahsoka! AHSOKA!/_

Anakin leapt out of his fighter and landed hard on dusty ground, looking around wildly.

“OVER HERE, YOU STUPID BUGS!”

Anakin spun around and spotted a slim orange figure perched on top of a nearby ridge, frantically waving her arms to try and get the attention of the Geonosian mercenaries that were currently aiming their weapons at her Master.

“Dammit, Snips, be _careful_!”

“Why? You never are!”

Anakin blinked blearily. Oh. _Chssk_. Hels, _ow_ , it hurt to _blink_ , it hurt to _not_ blink.

Not-blinking felt like there was tape over his eyes and cotton in his brain.

Blinking felt like someone hammering on his eyes each time he did it.

He tried to speak, but all that came out was an inarticulate groan.

“Ah. Anakin,” said a smug voice. “You’re awake, old Padawan. I’m impressed. Although,” Obi-Wan continued, much too loudly from somewhere very nearby, “that’s about the only impressive thing about this situation. Who knew you were such a lightweight, old friend?”

Anakin swore fluently, trying to reorient himself.

“ _I_ ,” Obi-Wan continued cheerfully—he must be that sort of reddish-beige blob standing—sitting?—and looming over him. Was he laying on the floor next to his old Master’s chair? Yikes. “drank three glasses of Corellian beer, two flasks of Weequay brew, and an entire bottle of truly marvelous Alderaanian wine. You, on the other hand, had three whiskeys, and dropped like a rock. It was…hilarious.”

“Shuddup,” Anakin groaned.

Obi-Wan sighed indulgently and then pressed a hand over Anakin’s forehead. It was overly warm and it hurt, but Anakin could feel his best friend pulling gently with the Force.

Slowly, the horrible hangover began to fade.

“Why…didn’t you teach me that trick before?” Anakin accused.

“I _did_. You weren’t listening.”

“Ugh.”

“Padmé?”

“Yes?”

“Padmé, will you marry me?”  
“Are you _proposing_ to me? While we’re hiking in the _desert_ and we both look and feel and _smell_ completely awful? Outrunning a bounty hunter who’s trying to _kill_ both of us?”

“Yes.”

“All right, then, but you aren’t inviting your droids to the ceremony.”

“They’re _family_!”  
“No droids or no deal.”

“Well then there’s no competition, but I’m very grumpy about it.”

“That’s fine, dear. Incoming— _duck_!”

“Qui-Gon?”

“Hm?”

“Your hair is _all_ grey, did you know that?”

A shoe flew through the air by means of the Force so quickly that Anakin couldn’t dodge. “OW!”

“I have mirrors, grand-padawan, I know what my hair looks like.”

Anakin smirked and finally sat up from where he had been lazing on Qui-Gon’s sofa for the past hour, weary after a tedious diplomatic mission to Ryloth.

“At least it’s better than Master Dooku’s.”

“He’ll whip you in the salles if he hears you mocking his hair.” Qui-Gon answered with the tiniest of grins.

“Well, he’s gonna try anyway. I may have…been in a bad mood the other night—it was his fault I got stuck on Ryloth alone, you know, he ‘borrowed’ Ahsoka! Right out from under my nose!”

Master Jinn’s eyes widened. “Anakin, what did you do?”

There was a furious knock on the door, and then it unlocked itself without permission from anyone inside. “Oh, _kriff_ —Master Dooku, I’m sorry, I was tired and I wasn’t thinking straight—” Anakin cried in a much higher voice than usual.

The venerable old Master stormed towards him in a swirl of crisp black cape and glowered down at his great-grand-padawan, hoisting him to his feet with one gloved hand in Anakin’s tunic. “I’ll straighten you out, no worries,” Dooku hissed. “And you, my old Padawan, still have not learned to hide your amusement!”

Qui-Gon gave up the effort entirely and burst into laughter, watching a panicking Anakin being dragged out of the room by the great and terrible Dooku, whose silver locks were currently a riotous shade of purple.

“I have bad news and good news,” Anakin told his family. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka all watched him expectantly from the chairs in the common area.

Anakin took a deep breath. “The bad news is that I’m resigning as of tomorrow morning. I have tonight to get my affairs in order.”

Ahsoka gasped. “What? What did you do? Who decided this?”

Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Do you need me to get you out of trouble with the Council again, or is this…?”

Qui-Gon sipped his tea. “I…am admittedly a little disappointed, Anakin. Why?”

“Well, that’s the good news. Padmé and I are getting married in a week, and she’s already a few months pregnant.”

“She’s already pregnant?” three voices yelled in unison.

Anakin held up his hands defensively. “Okay, yeah, but—well, aren’t you excited about us getting married?”

“Skyguy. We all knew it was coming.” Ahsoka mumbled. “But a kid? A _kid_? That’s… _you’re_ a kid. You can’t raise a kid, you barely handled me and I’m only five years younger!”

“HEY!”

“You named her Ahsoka, right? _Ahsoka_ Skywalker, galaxy’s _hero_.” Ahsoka spoke over the holo-call, a tiny blue replica of herself with her arms folded over her custom cream-and-navy Knight’s robes.

Still, Anakin could sense her practically vibrating with excitement all the way from Naboo.

“No, we named her _Leia_. Luke and Leia. You’re heading over here soon, right? To meet them?”

“Yeah. I’m bringing the best presents ever, by the way.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

The doorbell chimed. Anakin stared at the holo in disbelief just as it winked out of existence; he sprinted to the front door of his house and found a tall, smirking Togruta on his front stoop, holding several large items.

Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Knight, strolled right in as if she lived in the house. “I have a box of toys for the twins, a bunch of ‘em that are made for different ages so you can give them new surprises every couple of months, and there’s two of each so that either they’re both satisfied or so that the dominant twin—which will _clearly_ be Leia—can lord both over her brother. I have a basket of pre-cooked sweetbreads for your wife, her favorites of course, as well as her favorite ridiculously pricey lotion from Rodia.” She dropped all this on the counter before finally pausing to hug Anakin.

“And this…is for you.” Ahsoka handed him—

“My...old lightsaber? You know I’m…not supposed to have this.” He was cradling it possessively anyway.

His former Padawan radiated smug glee. “I’ll let Obi-Wan explain.” She picked up a holo-disc and called him, and a moment later a six-inch tall version of Master Kenobi appeared, smiling benignly.

“Yes, yes, I’m on my way. I had to stop and pick up Qui-Gon. He landed himself in a gundark’s nest, you see, and needed rescuing—”

“That makes it sound much more embarrassing than it was!” a tinny version of Qui-Gon’s voice called out from somewhere out of sight on what was clearly Obi-Wan’s ship.

“—but I’m less than a day out from Naboo. Did you need something?”

Ahsoka grinned. “Tell Anakin. Tell him.”

“Didn’t you want to—”

“Tell! Him! Tell! Him!”

Obi-Wan shrugged a little self-consciously. “Ahsoka has been working very hard this past year to prove something to the Council—”

“You helped!”

“Unofficially. Anyways. Anakin…the reforms may take awhile to really get in motion, especially with the Knight Corps, but…all the other corps are officially hereby permitted to have families, with certain conditions. Mostly being monitored by the Order—for safety’s sake, but also to prevent anyone going off and forming some Sith cult—anyways. Anakin, if you choose to, the ExplorCorps is eager to enlist you.”

Anakin’s hand tightened on his lightsaber.

There was a long silence.

“Skyguy?” Ahsoka prompted uneasily.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said seriously, “get here as fast as you can, because I need to hug you. Snips, stand still.”

Ahsoka shrieked as Anakin tackled her. Padmé sighed from somewhere nearby.

“Is your daughter flirting with that spice-smuggler?” Qui-Gon asked.  
“Former spice-smuggler. He’s a Nubian courier now.”

“Still.”

“What? He keeps her on her toes.”

“I like him, yes, but he’s rough and somewhat crass, he’s drunk every other night, and he doesn’t take the Force seriously.”

“He’s charming.”

“You hate his guts.”

“I hate his guts, yeah.” Anakin and Qui-Gon watched as Leia and Han’s argument escalated until the seventeen-year-old levitated the older boy off the ground with a finely-placed Force tug and proceeded to dangle him over the railing while she turned to converse with someone else.

“He takes Leia seriously, though. Respects her. Teases the hell out of her to lighten her up, but he admires her too. It’s…not so bad,” Anakin admitted.

***

When Anakin was six, he met the man who would be his father, Qui-Gon Jinn.

When Anakin was eight, he met the girl who would be his sister, Ahsoka Tano.

When Anakin was ten, he met the man who would be his brother, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

When Anakin was eighteen, he met the woman who would be his wife, Padmé Amidala.

Many important things happened in the following years. Sith cults were defeated, marriages occurred, children were born, children were raised, a son was Knighted and a daughter elected into the Senate. Ahsoka achieved Masterhood and obtained a spunky Padawan of her own. Obi-Wan Knighted another apprentice, a sarcastic girl who liked to annoy Qui-Gon Jinn most of all, like it was a hobby. A few friends were buried in the line of duty. The Jedi Order reformed, bit by bit.

Anakin found himself, on one particular day at the lakehouse on Naboo with the light of sunset painting his living room, wondering what lucky draw landed him in this Force-blessed timeline where everything turned out okay. His wife was sitting, talking to Breha Organa, both of them with a toddler on their lap. The twins were playing cards—cheating flagrantly at cards—while Dooku gave them both tips. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were reclined on the sofa, with a blonde-haired little girl perched on Obi-Wan’s lap. Ahsoka was levitating the fruit bowl over Han Solo’s head, waiting for him to notice.

Anakin Skywalker crept into the middle of the room and felt it shift a little.

Warm pulses through the Force from all four of his children. A kiss blown across the room from Padmé. Two indulgent smiles from Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. A mischievous wink from Ahsoka as she waved him over to sit by her side.

The sun set on Naboo.

Their light and warmth lingered far, far longer.


End file.
